


Cast Out from an Unlit Star

by KittenKong



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: AU, Based on sinisterspooks seraprice AU, Confused!Connor, Confused!Keven, Currently not very romantic, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Seraphim, They both have no idea what is going on, angel - Freeform, mythical creatures, non-sexual nudity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-08 00:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12852669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittenKong/pseuds/KittenKong
Summary: He was falling. Fallingfallingfalling can’t get up can’t wake up can’t feeling anything but the burning and the fire in his veins. He was Fallen and and he was lost and found by a human, who was just having a bad day. AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I only recently joined this fandom, and I haven't written anything in a very long time (school and stress and you know how it is), but I was stalking the McPriceley tag on Tumblr (as you do) and was hit in the gut by inspiration when I saw sinisterspooks' Seraprice AU. This isn't COMPLETELY theirs, but it is heavily inspired by it, so... yeah.

He was falling. Falling _falling **falling**_ can’t get up _can’t wake up_ can’t feeling anything but the burning and the fire in his veins. Fire and ice and he’s _tumbling_ through the air, limbs flailing, failing, wings beating behind him in frantic panic. It’s warm, but not hot, and it’s cool, but not cold, and it’s _wrong_ because there is darkness around him when there should be light.

He can’t _feel_. The air and the darkness mean nothing. There is no wind or resistance, only movement and flurry. His feathers are straining to compensate and he tries to open every wing that he has-

-but he just keeps _falling_.

It’s deafeningly quiet. There are noises coming every which way. Screaming tears and painful whispers of his siblings as he falls away from them.

He hadn’t done anything wrong, he protests, he was just doing what he has always done. Working hard and being the shining example… and now he was _Fallen_ and he was _moving_ and the stars are stretched above and not below. His siblings call for him, because he wasn’t _meant_ to fall, but they can’t reach him because he is _beyond_ that. He is beyond being saved. He’s been pushed from grace and cannot think past the panic that the quiet suggests.

He shouldn’t feel anger, but the sibling that did this should not feel jealously, so perhaps they are both bad at what they are meant to be.

His feather’s brush his face as the wind finally hits him and he plummets into the world. He feels resistance as air brushes his wings and catches at him and, while he is still surrounded by the darkness, the stars are above him and he can _see_ -

-just as everything goes black.

 

* * *

 

Connor McKinley’s day had been, well, awful. Middle of winter, he was late to class because of a faulty alarm clock, he missed important notes for the exam in two weeks, his co-worker called in sick and he had to go pick up her shift when he _should_ be studying for the test he has _tomorrow_ , a patron decided it’d be fun to _accidently_ spill a glass of water all down his front, pay-day wasn’t until Thursday, he was out of everything save five day old stir-fry, and he’d smashed his toe onto a streetlight due to his apparent inability to be aware of his surroundings.

So yeah. His day had not been great. He’d go so far to say it had been one of the worst days of his life (if that day with his parents had never happened that is.)

So he was doing as he always did when the world decided to kick him while he was down.

He walked.

Not far, never far. It was probably not a good idea at all, what with it being the middle of the night in a secluded section of a park, but if anybody attacked him, Connor concluded that he’d probably just embrace death with open arms (until he got close enough to spray said attacker in the eyes with the pepper-spray he had on his person.)

It was calm, at night. There were no kids playing Frisbee or soccer and no picnics or loud, meaningless chatter. It was just him and the stars and the trees (and his pepper-spray.) No noise, or bright lights, just the moon and the sky and-

Somebody was screaming.

Connor’s head snapped upwards as what sounded like muffed agony hit his ears. Something snapped in his gut, and he went stiff, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as something primal stirred in his belly.

 _Protect yourself. Something is wrong. Stand on guard. Something could be watch you._  

His hand gripped the pepper-spray, and Connor whirled around as the screaming grew louder. It was then he noticed his feet were moving on their own accord – _towards_ the noise, what on Earth was _that_ about?! – and he barely registered that he was going into a slightly more secluded area of the park, surrounded by brush and tall oaks. The screaming turned into hysterical wails.

“Hello?” he asked, raising his voice but not quiet yelling, “hello? Is anybody there? Do you need help?” he hoped that if somebody was being attacked, the attackers might flee in fear of a possible witness. Probably poor judgement on his part, but his brain was both fuzzy and hyper-focused. Somebody needed help.  

The wails petered into wet sobbing, but he heard no noises of people retreating. There was no fearful yelling, or the thumping of shoes as people fled. Connor’s feet ground to a stop and he glanced around. Perhaps somebody had injured themselves? But the noises didn’t sound like _pain,_ rather they sounded distressed, and heart-breakingly sad.

He shook his head and blinked, forcing himself continue and push his way through the brush until he came across-

“... what?”

The ground was blackened in what almost looked like ash, following an intricate, swirling pattern like waves or ribbons or watercolour, and the sides of the trees facing the small clearing were stripped away in a perfect circle. The starlight bounced off any available leaf or branch almost blindingly, as if made of silver.

And then…

Then there was…

Connor didn’t know what he was looking at.

It was like looking at an optical illusion. His eyes kept bouncing from place to place as his brain hurried around, panicked, trying to make sense of the situation. It was man, he thought, lying on his back on the ground in front of him. His hair was brown – _gold?_ – and it shone – _glittered? –_ in the starlight. His limbs were long and eagle spread across the ground, and his skin was pale – _tan? –_ and reflected the light every way it could. Around his head arched light, not that of the stars, but bright and warm like a million sunrises, and it was _almost_ hard to look at. His eyes were closed in spite of the sobbing.

And there was the… well. Maybe he was more stressed than he thought. Because that… now, that wasn’t actually quite possible.

His brain was screaming that this was something strange and unnatural and that he should run very far away… or bow? Submit to something that obviously had more power than Connor had ever seen before. This man wasn’t human. Every single fibre of his being was stressing this fact. This was a perfect, inhuman stranger.

The thing?/man?/creature?/god?/monster? shifted and the light around his head flickered and dulled. Warm brown eyes slowly opened and he? sat up. Reality hit him as the thing in front of him rolled his shoulders, and his _wings_ (all six of them!) shuddered and then rose to stretch in tandem with his? arms and legs.

Connor squeaked and the thing screeched in alarm as it whirled to face him, backing up against a tree. His instincts – the ones only moments ago yelling to run – told him to comfort, because this was a scared thing, and as inhuman as he was, apparently he was human enough.

“Hey, hey, now, you’re okay,” Connor soothed, palms forward, “you’re okay. Do… do you speak English?”

The thing (no, no, the _man)_ looked as confused as he did scared and he whimpered.

“English? No?” Connor tried again, before sighing and shaking his head. He pointed at himself, “Connor,” he gestured to the man. He remained confused, and shivered. Connor looked at him for a moment more, before his eyes widened and his face flushed, “oh my gosh you’re naked, you’re very naked- oh my…” he shucked off his winter coat and slowly offered it to him. The man’s eyes flickered around Connor’s face, as if searching for something, before he burst into tears again. Connor recoiled, flinching back sharply, before his heart lurched, “hey, no, no, it’s okay, it’s… oh my gosh, what do I do, what do I do,” he mindlessly reached forward, and his hand brushed the man’s bare shoulder, causing him to screech again, and roll away from him. Connor flinched back harder than before, and he found himself on his back, elbows digging into the frozen ground.

Both were breathing heavy, staring at each other in alarm. Connor pushed himself up from the ground, snagging the coat from where it had fallen, and offering it again. The creature looked at it, and then at him, eyes tracing over his body in what seemed more like analysing than admiring, before his tense body relaxed a little and he slowly reached for the coat, staring at the sleeves in poorly veiled interest, before, staring at Connor all the while, carefully, almost fearfully, pulling it on. When it didn’t attack him, he relaxed even more and stared at Connor with similar interest. He tilted his head and let out a confused chirp.

Connor swallowed, “oh boy… what have I gotten myself into?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, thank you for the reception. I'm really happy people enjoyed this. Well, onto the next chapter.

Maybe dragging a weird bird man back to his apartment was not such a good idea, but it seemed cruel leaving the confused thing where it… he was. It was not going to be an easy task. The creature had started screeching again when he’d tried to move him from the clearing, and only after several minutes of frantic shushing did he calm him enough to stand him up and inspect him closer.

The creature (man, this thing needed a name) was tall. Connor himself was a reasonably tall guy, but his new companion cleared him by several inches. His hair, he decided, had to have been brown, but it was like every individual strand shone from the inside out, causing it shimmer gold. It made Connor’s head hurt just looking at it. He was handsome in his features, with sharp cheekbones and clear skin, but there was a childish innocence to him that stopped him being actually attractive. His eyes were too bright and the way he tilted his head was too curious, and Connor actually felt a little dirty standing next to him when he was wearing nothing but a coat that was slightly too small.

Then there were the wings. Six wings from his back that he’d folded along his spine to squeeze into the coat, yet some of his feathers still poked out from the bottom hem. They weren’t white, exactly, and instead they shifted colours depending on where Connor looked. They didn’t even appear to be feathers, but more like they were made out of a light that didn’t glow. He didn’t know how to explain it, and he decided that it would be better just to quit while he was ahead in this situation, if not so his head didn’t start swimming again.

Connor put on his best friendly smile. Sometimes body language worked better than words, and tone of voice tended to transcend languages. The creature stared at him, but looked calmer, and allowed Connor to touch his shoulder, cooing gently. He reached up to Connor’s hand and gently picked it up, examining his fingers and comparing them with his own. He turned Connor’s hand around, slotting their fingers together, before retreating and coaxing Connor to splay his hand, which he echoed. The creature’s hand was slightly larger, but he seemed interested in the similarity.

Their feather’s puffed up in excitement, and he let out a sound almost like a squawk, before rushing behind Connor before he could register what was going on. Connor felt fingers curiously spread across his shoulder blades over his shirt. They traced his spine, and Connor fought shivers as his body repulsed against the touch. The creature let out a confused coo, and his hands dropped. Connor turned around to find him with his head tilted, eyes squinted, and lips pursed.

And damn, Connor hadn’t even _thought-_

He was just as weird to the creature as the creature was to _him._

And he was probably _terrified_.

The creature reached for his hand again, and Connor allowed him to splay his fingers a second time. He stared at them, and his face smoothed into something less childish and more resigned. Connor swallowed, and the creature’s eyes jumped up to his face.

“My-My name is Connor,” he tried again, pointing at himself. Eyes flicked down to his finger and then back up to his face, “Connor,” he repeated, and recognition flickered in the creature’s eyes.

They opened their mouth before pausing. He frowned, before pointing to himself and stuttering out “K-Ko…,” and then letting out a frustrated noise that was a mixture between a coo and a huff.

“Ko?” Connor pointed at him. The creature – Ko? – nodded unwillingly. The fact that he cooed probably meant that English wasn’t going to come easy to him, Connor decided. Not his name, then, but close enough (and better than ‘creature’.)

Connor put on his bright smile again and gripped Ko’s arm softly, “Come. Home,” he gently tugged, and Ko followed with little resistance, trailing behind him, and leaving the clearing without a word.

 

* * *

 

 

This thing was strange, Kokabiel decided. Very strange and weird looking.

The creature/thing in front of him was like him, he supposed, as he stared at their hands, pressed together. It had fingers and a face and skin (like he and his sibilings had) but it lacked feathers or wings. Kokabiel hoped that the creature hadn’t been harmed in some way that caused it to lose its wings. Could it have Fallen also? No, he surely would have heard about that. In any matter, he’d never heard of a Fallen who had lost their wings. Some of his siblings said that Fallen’s wings could because _dark_ if the Fallen did not repent, but to lose them completely?

Not Fallen then. But then what? Where was he that he could meet this strange, wingless thing?

The creature made a noise then, and Kokabiel’s eyes flashed up to its face, taken again by just how similar they looked. Its hair – a bright red – didn’t shine in halo light like his he or his siblings did, but it’s overall appearance was not unfamiliar. It didn’t look too unlike that to which he already knew.

The creature made a noise. Was it trying to say something? It was obviously intelligent, and didn’t appear to be aggressive, and he watched as it pointed at itself with one of its fingers. When he didn’t say anything in return, the creature jabbed at himself harder and repeated one of its noises.

What was it trying to do? What was it trying to say with this harsh language? He noted the fold in-between its eyes deepened. It was frustrated, he thought. But why…

A name! That was what the sound must be! A name. The creature – _Connor –_ seemed to register his understanding, because its (his? It had a name now and seemed less like a thing) eyes brightened hopefully. His wings shuddered excitedly. He should respond. He opened his mouth to do just that, before pausing. Connor did not speak his language, and his words had seemed completely lost on him. Judging by the roughness of his voice, Kokabiel doubted that he’d be able to correctly pronounce his name at all. He frowned. Well, if Connor couldn’t speak to him _, he’d_ have to speak to him, he decided. He straightened his shoulders somewhat, pointed at himself and prepared to give the best damn rendition of his name that he could.

“K-Ko,” he stuttered.

What was _that_. That was the most pathetic attempt at anything _ever_. He was so embarrassed. He huffed, cursing under his breath.

Connor, however, looked delighted, and pointed at him, “Ko?” he questioned.

Kokabiel nodded stiffly. He hoped his disappointment wasn’t obvious. This was humiliating enough.

Connor smiled again, bright and happy, and for a moment Kokabiel was left wondering for a moment if he perhaps had a halo after all. He reached for Kokabiel’s arm, grabbing it softly and without aggression, and pulled gently as if to lead him.

This _Connor_ felt safe, Kokabiel decided, allowing himself to be led out of the clearing he was situated in and through the way Connor had come.

This new strange place was larger than he thought. Large and scary. His companions grip tightened a little – though it didn’t seem threatening – as they were led into a much larger clearing, with what seemed like a path running through it. At least _that_ was recognisable.

Connor paused, turning to him and putting his finger to his lips. Ah! He knew what _that_ meant as well. This world at least did seem to have similar characteristics. He blinked his acknowledgement, and his companion seemed pleased, before letting go of his arm, and gesturing to follow. Kokabiel smiled. At least there was somebody friendly here. Maybe this would not be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From my heart, thank you for the reception. It was honestly so nice after a while of not writing at all. I'm not really have with the last section but... well, I guess I'll deal. I don't really have a huge idea where this is going, but I hope that whatever I come up with will be okay. It's a bit odd getting back into it, so I can't guarantee quick updates (sorry!) but I hope they aren't too far apart.  
> Thank you very much for reading!
> 
> \- KK


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note a couple tag changes. Nothing big - just caution.

It took only thirty minutes to get Ko to his apartment. Connor was honestly amazed how quick that was, with how often he had to draw Ko’s attention away from streetlights and shop windows. It only took a few times before his new companion seemed to realise that, no, this wasn’t a stroll, they actually had to be somewhere, and he seemed to break himself out of his trances easily enough after that, but he still stared all around them, eyes wide, taking in what Connor assumed must be new things (including a fire hydrant, a post box, three stray cats, and a dumpster).

They finally stopped outside his apartment complex, which he dragged Ko through with renewed vigour, gripping his hand and tugging him up the stairs to the second story. Ko chirped curiously as Connor let go of his hand and fumbled for his keys, sliding them into the lock, and pushing the door open. He stepped to the side and gestured inside his apartment, which Ko curiously, with no sense of caution, it now seemed, explored. He clicked the door shut behind them both and let out a deep breath.

“Oh heck…” he mumbled, dragging a hand down his face, letting out a long sigh. What on earth had he gotten himself into? He’d gone off to clear his head, and now he had a strange… what, bird-monster-man thing in his house? He’d obviously done something to piss off the guy upstairs – _sorry for being so flippant towards you Heavenly Father_ – and He’d sent him another test to be subjugated to. He’d be dragged down to hell for helping this thing, he was sure of it. A test.

Then again, Connor figured that bird-people was more in line with Angels than-

Connor froze, head snapping towards his new guest, who was currently staring, fascinated, at his cat. His wings shook, and confined in the jacket, his whole body followed, and his hair still seemed to shine from the inside out, like forming a…

A halo…?

There was no gosh darn way, he decided. That was a stupid idea. He’d never be blessed to walk in the presence of Angels. He shook his head, sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen, and observing some more. Ko seemed to have stopped bugging his cat in favour of inspecting the cushions on his couch. He leaned forward to take a stiff before then jabbing at them a few times. He must had found what he was looking forward, because he pulled one to his chest and lay down, chirping excitedly. He looked very happy, Connor decided.

He, however, sat stiffly at the kitchen bench, barely noting the confused chirp that his, what, _guest?_ let out.

What on _Earth_ was going on. This… _this._ What had he done to deserve this? His day was awful, he’d _never_ be able to study for this test now, with this stuff going on, and what was he going to _do_ with Ko tomorrow during class and work? This was a disaster. His breathing got shallow and he felt his mind begin to fuzz over. This was too much. Why did this shit always happen to him? His parents hated him, his sister had to sneak to speak to him, his work was tedious, school was hard, none of his classmates seemed to speak to him, and he was _born broken-_

A hand touched his shoulder, and Connor jumped back, almost falling off of the stool. It wobbled dangerously for a moment, before falling back into place.

Ko was staring at him, eyebrows scrunched and looking… confused? Worried? Connor didn’t know. Not happy. The place where Ko’s hand had touched him felt like it was burning, but it kept the world from swimming around him, and Connor allowed it to ground him.

Ko let out a confused chirp, followed by a low thrill, and his face scrunched up more and touching his shoulder again. Connor’s face smoothed out and he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

“I-I… I’m okay,” he patted his companion’s hand gently, before shrugging off the touch and sliding off of the stool, “I’m okay, I just… ah, I just…” Connor stopped, abruptly flushing as he noticed Ko had shrugged off his jacket, which was now a heap on the floor. It _was_ warm in his apartment, Connor thought, so it only made sense to take off a winter coat but by the Lord above there was _a nude man in his apartment he was going to Hell-_

Connor squeaked. Loudly.

Ko let out another confused chirp, head tilted innocently to the side.

* * *

Kokabiel decided that this place he’d Fallen into wasn’t nearly as bad as the stories warned it would be. It was dark, yes, but there were bright lights shining every which way, and any place that obviously worked so hard to combat darkness couldn’t be so bad. The creatures that dwelled here – if Connor was any indication – seemed friendly, no matter the strange lack of appendages, and this place which he had brought him – a nest of some sort, he supposed – was warm and inviting. He hugged a soft square to his chest and collapsed with a happy murmur, closing his eyes. The covering that Connor had gave him rubbed against his wings awkwardly, and he huffed in annoyance, before sitting up, removing it, and lying down again. Much better. Although the covering did help with the unnatural coldness of outside, it was warm here, and Kokabiel hoped that Connor would not take offence.

He furrowed his brow. He really hoped there was no offence to be taken. He was unsure of the customs of these creatures, but Kokabiel had his fair share of siblings that would get huffy if you seemingly didn’t appreciate a gift enough for their tastes.

Deciding that he wouldn’t want to risk it – Connor had been kind, after all – he sat up to try and attempt to convey the concept to him.

Connor’s eyes had gone glassy.

He felt his heart pump a little faster – surely he had not offended him! That was not what he had been hoping for at all!

“I-I’m sorry if I have offended you,” he said, eyes flicking around the room, “I meant nothing of it. I was just…” he trailed off. Connor wasn’t looking at him. He was blankly staring at the wall beside him.

“Co… Commmm, Connn, Con,” he stuttered the best he could. Oh Father this was ridiculous. He should be better at this. This tongue was so heavy, “are you alright?”

Connor didn’t respond, eyes just as glassy.

He slowly got up from the couch, making his way towards his new companion, reaching for his arm. His fingers brushed Connor’s shoulder, and his eyes refocused, before flinching back and almost toppling off the seat.

Kokabiel felt his face scrunch, “are you alright?” he asked again.

Connor’s face smoothed and he replied, sounding breathy but not unwell. He wasn’t sure what his companion was saying, but he was responsive. Connor patted his hand gently and moved away from the touch. At least he seemed normal enough now-

Connor froze again. Kokabiel felt his heart race-

-but this was different. His face had gone red, and he was looking Kokabiel up and down, before his eyes flicked to where the covering lay on the floor.

Oh gosh, he had offended him, hadn’t he? He thought to apologise, before he realised that Connor wasn’t looking at the covering anymore, but instead had his eyes on him, face getting redder – not in anger, but something else. Embarrassment? – and he let out a sound like a scared fledgling.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

Connor jumped up from where he was seated and fled into another area of the nest, where Kokabiel could hear rummaging and thumping, before he emerged again, tossing something to him.

Connor gestured to his legs, pulling at the coverings there, and Kokabiel stared at what was in his own hands.

Ah, okay. If it made this creature happy…

He pulled on the coverings, ignoring that they were tight. If this was a personal covering of Connor, then it would be small on him, he supposed.

This thing was strange, Kokabiel decided. Who’d ever been so insistent on coverings? How bizarre.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm so sorry this took so long - I had some personal stuff come up. But I hope you enjoyed this!  
> This probably isn't going to be too much longer - I haven't got enough planned. Although, I might write one-shots for this universe...
> 
> -KK

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading. If I'm hit in the gut again, I might continue (maybe some actually McPriceley fluff???) but there certainly aren't any promises. This is almost completely uneditted (I wanted to post before I chickened out) so if you see any mistakes, let me know. Thanks again!
> 
> \- KK


End file.
